


A Perfect Fit

by IreneADonovan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Shrinking, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:38:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18876133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan
Summary: Steve proposes to Bucky. The Problem: the engagement ring is an Asgardian artifact that shrinks Steve to the size if a Ken doll. Assorted Avengers and a handful of X-Men seek to undo the spell...





	A Perfect Fit

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Art for IreneADonovan's story "A Perfect Fit"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868432) by [mific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific). 



> Many thanks to mific for creating the artwork that inspired this story. Thank you ever so much!

“Will you marry me, Buck?”

Steve was down on one knee, gazing up at him with earnest blue eyes, a heavy ring of hammered gold with a cabochon ruby extended in his fingers.

For a moment, Bucky couldn't speak, finding his voice only with extreme effort. “Of course I will, punk,” he said in a rough whisper. “Now get up here and kiss me.”

Steve rose, took Bucky's metal hand, slid the ring onto his finger. It settled in place like it was meant to be there, though it was clearly an antique. He flexed his fingers, staring at it.

“How's it feel?”

“Good. It feels good.” And strange. And heavy. He cradled Steve's face in his hands, kissed him slow and thorough.

Steve's arms circled his body, held him tight. It still felt strange sometimes, Steve's new body, long and lean and muscular. Not that it didn't feel good; it did. In fact it felt fucking fantastic. Even better was the knowledge that Steve was truly healthy now.

But that didn't mean he didn't occasionally miss the old Steve, the way he'd been able to wrap himself entirely around him. Sometimes he still wished he could hold that Steve again.

The ring on his finger pulsed with a low electrical hum, startling him. Then Steve was shifting in his arms, shrinking. And shrinking.

“What the hell?” Steve squawked.

Within moments, Steve had shrunk to the size of a Ken doll, no more than a foot tall. His tiny hands clung tightly to Bucky's beard, and fire blazed in his gray-blue eyes. “Bucky! What the fuck?”

Bucky wrapped a gentle hand around Steve's body. “Let go,” he said.

Reluctantly, Steve loosed his grip on Bucky's beard 

Bucky lowered him slowly away from his face.

Steve looked down at himself, still super-serum-muscular, just tiny, then back up at Bucky. “Damn it, Bucky! You wished I was small again, didn't you?”

“Not exactly.” Bucky sighed. “I was just remembering how it felt when I could wrap myself around you, then the ring pulsed, and you shrank.”

“The ring?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Bucky looked deep into Steve's tiny eyes. “But there's got to be a way to undo this. I don't care if it's alien tech or some kind of magic -- there's got to be a way.”

“Did you try just unwishing it?”

“You really think I haven't been doing just that ever since this happened?” He had.

Steve sighed. “I guess you have.”

“We'll figure it out. Tony's bound to have ideas. We'll go see him in the morning. For now let's get some sleep.”

“This is _not_ how I imagined the night I popped the question.”

“Same here.”

Bucky carried Steve into the bedroom, set him on his pillow. Steve shed his shoes, shimmied out of his jeans, then stretched out. Bucky stripped to his boxers and slid under the sheet. He set his hand next to Steve's body. “Night, punk.”

Steve cuddled up to Bucky's hand. “Night, jerk.”

**~***~**

The next morning, Bucky woke to find Steve curled around his hand. The punk looked downright adorable in a stray-kitten sort of way, his features utterly relaxed in sleep, looking painfully young and vulnerable.

Bucky nudged Steve with a finger. “Hey, Steve. Time to wake up.”

Steve groaned, blinked his eyes open. He focused in on Bucky and sighed. “So much for hoping this was a dream.”

“'Fraid not.”

Steve sat up. “So do we have a plan? Talk to Tony?”

Bucky nodded. “Start with Tony. He'll have some ideas. Let's get cleaned up and eat, then we can head out.”

Both bathing and eating held challenges, but together they brainstormed through them. Bucky put milk and a few pieces of cereal into a spoon, and Steve ate with his hands, complaining about the mess the whole time. Then Bucky filled a pan with soapy water, and Steve climbed in for a bath. There was no help, though, for Steve's clothing. He was stuck in what he was wearing the previous day. Maybe they could visit a toy store later for some doll's clothes, though Steve hated the idea.

Steve also hated that he couldn't accompany Bucky openly, but it was just too dangerous, being out on the streets of New York with what appeared to be an animated doll. So Steve was sweating and swearing inside Bucky's mostly-empty backpack.

They arrived at Avengers Tower, and Bucky swiped them into the elevator. Once the doors closed, he opened the backpack and let Steve out.

“About time,” Steve muttered, red-faced from the stuffy backpack.

“Not like we had much choice,” Bucky said, setting Steve on his shoulder.

The trip up was swift, and Bucky stepped out into the lounge. Natasha saw him and greeted him in Russian, just because she could.

“Knock it off, Tasha,” he growled.

Her gaze landed on Steve. “ _Bozhe moy_.”

“Hey, Nat,” Steve said.

“Steve? That's really you?”

“Yeah. Long story. Is Tony around?”

“He's playing a video game with Clint. A shoot-em-up. He's losing, of course.”She studied Steve. “I take it you need him because you're the size of a Ken doll.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said impatiently. “We're hoping he can figure out what happened and how to undo it.”

“C'mon, then.” She took off across the room, covering ground quicker than seemed possible for such a petite woman.

Tony was indeed losing. Badly. Clint's face was a mask of concentration, only the gleam in his eyes betraying his satisfaction.

“Tony,” Steve called. “We need your help.”

Tony glanced away from the video screen and nearly dropped the controller as he realized what he was seeing. “Cap?” He tossed the controller onto one of the couches and turned to face them.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“Run into a shrink-ray?”

“Sort of of. We think it was the ring.”

“What ring?”

Bucky held up his left hand. “This one. My engagement ring. Steve shrank right after I put it on.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Steve said. “But it sure wasn't how I'd planned to spend the night we got engaged.”

“With you there,” Bucky muttered.

Tony held out his hand. “Let me see it.”

Bucky tried to twist the ring off, but it wouldn't budge. “Well, fuck,” he said.

“Interesting,” Tony said. “Come up to my lair -- I mean lab -- and I'll run what tests I can.”

Bucky sighed. This sounded like as much fun as dental work. He'd been hoping to get in on the game with Clint while Tony poked and prodded Steve and the ring. Instead he watched Tasha sign something to Clint and pick up the discarded controller. Clint’s grin was predatory, and his eyes gleamed as he reset the game.

Reluctantly, Bucky followed Tony.

It proved to be more boring than he'd feared. He sat on a stool while Tony swabbed the ring, then prepped the swab prior to feeding it into an ominous-looking machine. He sang under his breath as he worked, a song that sounded like a list of chemical elements.

As he finished feeding the machine, he said, “This should give us the chemical composition of the metal. It's not just gold. There's something far harder in there, too, maybe even vibranium.” 

Tony turned his attention to Steve, quizzing him on how the shrinking had felt and his experiences since. Bucky watched Steve with naked amazement. The man had asked him to marry him. No matter what else had happened, this was real. This was forever. He'd never dreamed this would be possible during the bleak years as a brainwashed tool, first of the Soviets, then of HYDRA. He hadn't even remembered Steve then, not beyond a nagging itch at the back of his mind, the itch of suppressed memory. But now Steve was back in his life, still loved him despite what he had done as the Winter Soldier. He could face anything with Steve at his side. Even a miniaturized fiancé.

The machine beeped, and Tony moved to study the results. “Fascinating,” he said. “The other primary element isn't vibranium; it's adamantium. Nearly as hard as vibranium, and even more difficult to work. Not to mention, rare as hell.”

Tony paused for a few seconds, but it was clear his genius brain was still going a mile a minute. “I only know of one scientist who worked with it. It can only be manipulated when molten. Once it's cooled, it's damned near indestructible.”

“So who's the scientist and where do we find him?” Bucky got off the stool, started to pace.

“Dead,” Tony said flatly. “Killed by an experiment gone wrong, and good riddance. Fucking eugenicist.”

“Of fucking course,” Steve muttered.

“Never fear. I know someone who should be able to help. At the very least, he should be able to get the ring off your finger. He has a way with metal.”

Bucky didn't like the sound of that.

“You two head up to Westchester and see Magneto; I'll give you the address. Meanwhile, I'm going to consult with Bruce, maybe even with Stephen. This is either some kind of alien tech or it's magic.”

Bucky wasn't sure which of those things would be worse.

**~***~**

An hour later, Bucky was driving one of Tony's Jags through some seriously pricey countryside. Steve sat beside him, cross-legged, fidgeting. “I hate this,” he declared.

“We'll find a way to fix it,” Bucky said. There had to be one. There just had to.

He pulled up to a wrought-iron gate set into a stone wall. A small plaque attached to the stone proclaimed Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Bucky rolled down his window, looking for an intercom.

The gate swung open soundlessly.

Bucky shrugged and drove in.

The place was a literal fucking mansion, even grander than anything Tony owned. Bucky let out a low whistle and parked at the end of the drive.

Steve climbed onto his shoulder to take a look. “Damn.”

They exited the car and walked to the front door, which also swung open of its own accord. A lanky young man with glasses and dark hair appraised them. “I'm Hank McCoy, one of the teachers here. You must be the pair Tony Stark called about. Follow me -- Professor Xavier and Magneto are waiting for you.”

Bucky felt Steve tense at the second name, though he didn't know why.

McCoy led them to an old-fashioned study, all wood panelling, bookshelves and rich, dark furnishings. And books, loads of books, mostly on the lower shelves, the upper shelves given over to knickknacks.

Bucky saw why a moment later; one of the room's occupants sat in a wheelchair.

He was compactly built, with wavy dark hair just beginning to grey and piercing blue eyes. “Hello,” he said, his voice warm and rich, his accent posh English. “I'm Charles Xavier, and this is Erik Lehnsherr, aka Magneto.”

Bucky's gaze cut to the other man, long-limbed and auburn-haired, with cool aqua-grey eyes. He held himself with the deadly grace of an assassin.

Magneto gave a subtle nod, acknowledging he'd spotted the same in Bucky.

Xavier smiled, ignoring the silent exchange. “Tony said you had a unique problem,” he said, focusing in on Steve. “It's an honor to meet you, Captain. I only wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Me, too,” Steve said, a little wry.

“Tell us what happened,” Xavier said.

Steve recounted the story. Xavier listened attentively; Magneto scowled and scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

Bucky bristled. “It's still what happened.”

Magneto rose. “Show me the ring.”

Bucky was tempted to introduce Magneto to his best left cross, and thus to the ring. But, he reminded himself, the man might actually be able to help them. He walked over to where Magneto stood and reluctantly extended his hand.

Magneto studied the hand as much as the ring. “Is that organic steel?” he asked.

“Yeah, courtesy of the Soviets.”

Magneto nodded. “They did some interesting things with metals.”

Xavier scowled; Bucky had no idea why.

“Can you get it off?” Bucky asked.

Magneto flexed his fingers, closed his eyes, concentrated for a long minute before opening them again. “It's fighting me. Adamantium is difficult to work, even for me, but there's something more at work in this ring. I've never felt resistance like this.” Bucky could see anger in the man's man's eyes, carefully leashed.

“Thanks for trying,” Steve sighed.

Magneto held up a hand. “There is one other thing I can try.” His pale eyes met Bucky's. “This may be uncomfortable, but it will not last.”

Bucky swallowed hard. “Do it.”

His ring finger felt like it was clamped in a vise, painfully squeezed and then stretched, but after a few agonizing moments, the ring slipped free, floating in midair, and the pressure eased.

Magneto grinned triumphantly; the man had way too many teeth. “I couldn't affect the ring, so I manipulated your finger.”

Bucky plucked the ring out of the air and stuffed it in his jeans pocket. “As long as it worked, I guess. Just don't do it again.”

Steve's response was far politer. “Thank you, both of you.”

“Any time,” Xavier said.

Magneto said nothing, but it was clear he didn't share Xavier's sentiment.

They said their goodbyes, and Bucky left the study, Steve still on his shoulder.

As he returned to the foyer, a slender woman with honey-brown hair approached. He eyed her warily, noting that she was pretty in a girl-next next-door sort of way, and that she was blind, her eyes a milky white. She smiled as she spoke to him. “You will find the answers you seek soon. Be patient.”

“Who are you, and how the hell do you know anything about us?” Bucky demanded.

The woman offered a knowing smile. “My name is Irene, and I see possible futures.”

“So why don't you just tell us the answers then?”

“To do so would alter the future as it must unfold.”

“You're full of shit, lady,” Bucky snapped.

“Perhaps,” she said with an enigmatic smile, “but I'm also right.”

A blue-skinned woman with red hair, wearing nothing but the scales that overlapped her skin, rushed into the foyer. “There you are,” she said to Irene. “I've been looking all over for you.”

“And now you've found me. I was needed here.” She reached toward the blue woman.

The blue woman caught her hand, kissed it, wrapped it around her elbow. “And now you're needed upstairs.” She studied Bucky and Steve for just a moment, her eyes a striking gold. “Don't mind her,” she said. “She really is full of shit.”

“And right.” Irene's smile had grown affectionate.

The blue-skinned woman kissed her cheek. “Come on. We've got a class to teach.”

The pair turned as one and headed for the stairs.

Bucky watched them for a moment, then turned and walked out the door.

**~***~**

They returned to Avengers Tower, heartened. Clint and Natasha were still locked in battle, determined and grim, though they'd been at it for hours.

Tasha glanced up ever so briefly as they passed, but said nothing.

Tony had been joined in his lab by Bruce Banner and Stephen Strange. “Any luck?” he asked.

Bucky dug the ring out of his pocket. “Some. No clue as to what it is yet, but Lehnsherr was able to get it off.”

Tony reached for the ring, but Strange snatched it away. “This is a magical artifact.” He held a hand over it, eyes glazing as he analyzed it. “Asgardian,” he announced.

Steve sighed. “Anyone know where we can find Thor?”

“Allow me,” Strange said. His ice-blue eyes blinked closed for a moment as he concentrated, then Thor appeared before them, tankard of ale in one broad hand.

He glared at Strange. “What the Hel do you want this time?” He took a long drink, and as he lifted the tankard away from his lips, it refilled lazily.

Strange held up the ring. “Asgardian magic.”

Thor took it and looked it over. “I believe this is my sister's ring.”

“Hela?” Bruce asked warily.

“To my knowledge, I have no other sister.” Thor parked his ass on a table, eliciting a squawk of protest from Tony as papers crumpled and scattered in all directions. “What does it do?”

“You hadn't noticed?” Tony asked, adding extra snark to his voice as he gestured at Steve.

Thor peered at Steve. “Captain? You're looking well,” another swallow of ale, “if tiny.”

“Do you know how to undo it?” Bucky demanded impatiently.

“Did you try simply unwishing it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I do not know. My sister had a twisted sense of humor, so there's likely also a twist to the undoing.”

“Great,” Bucky muttered.

Tony claimed the ring. “We _will_ find an answer. We've got three geniuses and a god working on it. Go home, get some rest. We'll keep hunting.”

Bucky tensed, preparing to argue, but Steve stroked the back of his neck with one tiny hand. “Come on, Buck. Let them work.”

“Fine.” Bucky turned and stalked out.

**~***~**

Their second night as an engaged couple was as awkward as the first. Bucky made a sandwich, sliced off a small wedge for Steve and set it on a jar lid for a plate. He poured some milk into a shot glass, nearly the equivalent of a bucket in Steve's current condition, but it was the best he could do.

Afterward, they shared a beer and watched some baseball. Neither of them were nearly as passionate about the sport as they had once been, what with the Dodgers' desertion of Brooklyn, but it killed the time.

The Mets lost, and Bucky turned the tv off.

“What if we can't undo this?” Steve asked, half to himself.

“Don't talk like that,” Bucky said sharply. “We've got the Avengers working on this. If there's an answer, Tony and Bruce and Strange will find it.”

“If,” Steve said moodily.

“When,” Bucky amended. He yawned and stretched. “Come on. Let's get some sleep.”

Bucky again fell asleep with Steve curled around his hand.

And woke the same way when his phone buzzed with a text. It was from Tony and said simply, “Come in.” So they washed up and ate and went to the lab..

As they entered Tony's lab, Bucky saw the number of people working on the problem had doubled. Xavier and Magneto and McCoy were there, as well as--

“Loki,” Steve muttered.

The trickster god smiled enigmatically. “Captain.”

“We needed him,.” Tony explained. “I don't like it much, either, but he's actually helped.”

“Five geniuses, a terrorist, and two gods,” Steve said. “Sounds like the punchline to a joke.”

“Or a song,” Tony said, then sang, “I went out and shot the maximum the game laws would allow -- two game wardens, seven hunters, and a cow.” He then tried singing “five geniuses, a terrorist, and two gods” to the same tune, and smiled. “It even scans pretty well.”

Bucky scarcely paid attention, focusing instead on one particular part of what Steve had said. “A terrorist?”

Xavier wheeled toward them, an easy grin on his crimson lips, his sapphire eyes gleaming. “Former terrorist. Erik's entirely respectable now.”

“Charles.” The name was spoken affectionately, but with a warning edge.

“Oh, all right, darling. Almost entirely respectable.”

“Better. A man's got to have some mystery.”

“God, you two are just so disgustingly cute together.” Tony wrinkled his nose.

“I take it you found something,” Bucky said, trying to get the train back on track.

“We did.” Tony looked triumphant.”

“You mean _I_ did,” Loki said peevishly.

Tony waved the comment away. “Whatever. The key seems to be that the ring is designed to be used against an enemy. You visualize what you want to happen, and it happens.”

“So?” Bucky didn't see as how this was much of a revelation.

“So, the key to undoing this seems to be doing something you wouldn't usually consider doing to an enemy.”

“Which is?”

“Kiss him, you idiot,” Loki said.

“But that's what started this whole mess.”

“It wasn't the kiss; it was what you were thinking at the time,” Strange said, sounding bored.

“And we haven't kissed, really kissed, since this happened,” Steve said.

Could it really be that simple? 

“Ready to undo this, punk?”

“Hell, yeah.”

Bucky took Steve in one hand and raised him to his lips. The size difference made it feel really awkward at first, but then Steve was shifting, growing, until he was back in Bucky's arms the way he belonged.

They kissed as ifof the world didn't exist, until someone cleared his throat pointedly. They sprang apart, both blushing furiously. Steve's bright eyes stared into his own.

“Welcome back, Cap,” Tony said.

The others, except for Loki, echoed the sentiment.

“Do you want this back?” Tony held up the ring.

“Hell, no,” Steve said.

Bucky hesitated. “It _is_ my engagement ring.”

“I'll buy you a new one,” Steve said.

Bucky took the ring from Tony. “I'm keeping it,” he decided. “I won't wear it,” he said, “but I'll keep it.” He set a hand on Steve's shoulder. “Ready to go home?”

Steve shook his head. “Give me a minute. I need to talk to Magneto.”

Magneto looked as startled as Bucky felt, but he stepped aside and conferred with Steve.

Xavier wheeled close as Bucky waited. “He's lucky to have you.”

Bucky shook his head. “I'm luckier. He saved me when I didn't know I needed saving.”

“Indeed.” Xavier's eyes went to Magneto. “I know just what you mean.”

Steve and Magneto came back toward them. Magneto's eyes focused in on Xavier, much the same way Steve's gaze zeroed in on Bucky. “He really does love you,” Bucky observed.

“And I, him,” Xavier agreed.

“Even though he's a terrorist?”

“Former terrorist,” Magneto said firmly. “All I am now is a humble language teacher.”

“Hardly humble, darling.”

Bucky and Steve both laughed, then Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky's shoulders. “Come on, jerk. Let's go home.”

**~***~**

They could scarcely keep their hands off each other. They practically fell through the door, kissing frantically. Steve buried his hands in Bucky's hair, tangling in the shaggy strands, the pain-in-pleasure fuelling Bucky's need.

Bucky managed to kick the door shut, his arms wrapped around Steve's oh-so-solid body. How could he ever have thought he missed the other Steve, when this one felt so good in his arms?

He yanked at the hem of Steve's t-shirt, shoved it up to his shoulder blades, slid his hands over bare skin and hard muscle.

Steve pulled his lips away from Bucky's long enough to say, “Bed. Now.”

They stumbled through the house, unwilling to lose contact even for a moment. Bucky managed to get Steve's t-shirt the rest of the way off, and Steve got Bucky's jeans unsnapped and half-unzipped, then plunged his hand in to palm Bucky's cock.

“Oh, fuuuck, Steve.” The words were dragged from his throat.

Steve met his gaze, blue eyes twinkling. “Fuck Steve? Now there's an idea.”

“You're a punk, Steve.”

“Yeah, but I'm your punk.”

Bucky's hand slipped down to squeeze Steve's ass. “And you're an ass.”

“What about my ass?”

“It's mine, too.” Both of his hands grabbed the aforementioned object and lifted Steve to his tiptoes.

Steve let out an un-Captain-America-like squeak.

Bucky gave that muscular ass another hard squeeze, then let go. “Strip,” he said. “I want to see my property.”

He toed off his sneakers and finished unzipping his jeans, as he watched Steve peel out of what remained of his own clothing, barely breathing as he watched the flex and play of the man's magnificent muscles.

For just a minute, he let himself remember what Steve had been like before, small and sickly, his skin sallow and pale, not the healthy rose-gold of today. Remember how often Steve had fought just to breathe, how frequently he'd fallen ill, the bouts of pneumonia that had threatened to make each Brooklyn winter his last. Remember his poor vision, his poor hearing, his twisted spine. No, he could never wish that Steve back. He wanted the man before him now, healthy and strong, with a compassion born of knowing suffering.

“Earth to Buck.”

Bucky pulled himself back to the present. “Yeah?”

“You were a million miles away.”

“Just remembering.”

Steve knew exactly where Bucky's mind had gone. “Me. How I used to be.”

“Yeah,” Bucky admitted.

“Do you miss how I was that much?” Steve spoke quietly, but Bucky could see the hurt reflecting in the depths of Steve's blue eyes.

“No,” Bucky said softly. “That's not what I was thinking at all.” He pulled Steve into his arms, nuzzled the juncture of neck and shoulder. “I was thinking about everything you went through, how hard you fought just to live, and how glad I am those days are over.”

Steve had gone utterly still.

“I love you, punk. Always have. And nothing makes me happier than to see you happy and healthy.”

Steve melted against Bucky, and Buck felt warm tears on his shoulder. “Love you, too, jerk.”

“So maybe I occasionally wish I could still wrap myself around you like I did back then.” He held Steve tightly. “But I would never, ever wish for you to be sick again.”

He held Steve for long minutes, then Steve re-composed himself and said, “Thanks, Buck.”

“Any time, Stevie.”

“Don't call me that.” Steve's hands found their way back inside Bucky's jeans, cupping his ass. “Now can we get back to where we were before we got interrupted?”

“Yeah.”

Steve pushed at Bucky's jeans. “Off.”

Bucky shed his shirt first, then shoved jeans and boxers down his legs and stepped out of them.

Steve let out an appreciative whistle.

Bucky blushed. He knew he wasn't unattractive, but he also wasn't the sculpted perfection of Captain America, especially with the scars along his left shoulder, the ugly seams where metal joined to flesh.

“Come here, handsome,” Steve said, and he drew Bucky into his arms. He nipped Bucky's ear, and Bucky gasped. Then their cocks made contact, and Bucky shuddered.

“God, you feel good, punk.”

“Shut up.” And Steve proceeded to shut him up with a most thorough kiss.

Bucky backed him up until he was up close against the bed, then he pushed him backward onto the mattress.

Steve bounced upon landing, and his cock bobbed enticingly. 

Bucky pounced, covering Steve's body with his own, kissing him again and again and again, rubbing their cocks together until they were both hard and aching.

He stretched to reach the nightstand and found their bottle of lube. “Roll over,” he growled.

Steve did so, and Bucky took a moment to appreciate the broad planes of his fiancé's back, the firm globes of his ass, the pink pucker waiting for his cock. He lubed up his hand -- the left one -- then brushed his finger over Steve's hole.

Steve made a low sound of approval, and Bucky eased the finger into him, began gently loosening the tight ring of muscle.

Steve groaned softly. “More.”

“Be patient, punk.” Bucky continued his ministrations, slow and thorough, one finger then two. He liked doing this with his left hand. The organic steel never got tired, never cramped. He could take his time, make sure Steve was ready for him. The sensations along metallic muscle and nerve were different but no less satisfying, in some ways even more sensitive than the original flesh.

Steve writhed beside him, shuddering every time Bucky brushed his prostate. “Please,” he begged. “Need you now.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, pulling his fingers out and slicking his cock. “On your back. I want to see your face.”

Steve rolled over obligingly and pulled his knees up to his chest. His loosened hole beckoned.

Bucky slid into position before Steve, lined up his cock, pushed in slowly. Steve tensed a little until his body accommodated the intrusion, then he relaxed.

Bucky sank in to the hilt, pulled back, drove in again, setting up a steady rhythm, pounding into Steve. Steve's blue eyes were wide and hazed with lust, pupils blown. His fair skin was flushed, sheened with sweat, and his breath came in short pants.

Bucky drove deep, found Steve's prostate. Steve's eyes rolled back in his head, and he swore breathlessly.

Bucky did it again. And again. And again, until Steve was gasping and shuddering, trembling on the brink. Bucky took Steve's cock in his hand and stroked it firmly, pushing Steve over the edge.

Steve's body convulsed, clenching tight around Bucky's cock, wringing his own orgasm from him.

Bucky collapsed on the bed beside Steve and didn't move for a long time.

Finally, he roused enough to retrieve a washcloth and clean the worst of the mess from their bodies. Then he sank back onto the bed beside Steve. Sated. Spent. Content. “Love you, punk.”

“Love you, too, jerk.”

**~***~**

A few days later, Steve got a text whose contents he was reluctant to share. “We need to go to Avengers Tower,” he said, but refused to elaborate when Bucky pressed for details.

Once there, they headed up to the lounge. Tony was battling Natasha at a video game. Tasha was winning.

The only other occupants were the real surprise -- Magneto and Charles Xavier. Steve, however, was unfazed. “It's ready?” he asked.

Magneto nodded. A handkerchief-wrapped bundle floated out of his jacket pocket and over to Steve, who plucked it out of the air and unwrapped it.

It was a ring. Identical in appearance to the enchanted engagement ring. Steve dropped to one knee in front of Bucky and held up the ring. “I know I asked you before, but I thought we could try it again with an unenchanted ring.” He shot a glance at Magneto. “It _is_ unenchanted, right?”

Magneto nodded, cool eyes showing a hint of warmth. “It is. Otherwise it is identical to the original.”

Steve nodded, satisfied, and turned his attention back to Bucky. “So, Buck, will you marry me?”

“Hell, yeah,” Bucky confirmed, letting Steve slide the ring onto the proper finger. A perfect fit.

Just like Steve in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> The songs Tony sings are [The Elements](https://youtu.be/yaFxrYEDmCs) and [The Hunting Song](https://youtu.be/A92_XFvez9U), both by Tom Lehrer. I don't know why it amuses me to have Tony know Tom Lehrer's ouevre, but it does nonetheless.
> 
> And as a nod to my career aa a slash writer, I'm also including Lehrer's [Smut](https://youtu.be/7jARdWfJulo).


End file.
